A Thanksgiving Love Story

I should have posted this on Thanksgiving but I wasn't reminded of this until yesterday. I wish I could retell the story like my friend tells it. He's much better with words than I. He told me that he has retold this story at least 100 times in the last 14 years.

Many, many, oh many years ago (are you feeling old yet T?) I used to tutor ESL to an Ethiopian family living in Colorado. They were a really nice family but their home had some issues. They were being put up in an apartment home that was less than desirable. Okay, that might be putting it mildly...they had roaches...lots of roaches. And anyone who knows me knows my fear of the little deviant creatures. I was so afraid of making them feel bad about it that I went to their apartment every week anyway. I used to sit with my feet about an inch from the floor (which is really good for the stomach muscles) so that they wouldn't crawl up my leg. When one would crawl across our reading material the mom would flick it off. I think I held my breath the entire visit each week. And when I left I had to check my pockets and cuffs to make sure I wasn't taking any home with me. To top it off, they didn't have air conditioning in the middle of summer.

Once, fall rolled around, they got a new apartment that was a little better. It was Thanksgiving and they invited me to dinner apparently after my boyfriend and I had already eaten and as he puts it, he was stuffed. But of course I didn't want to offend anyone so off we went! Oh, and just for the record, he says I made him go with me. They sat us in a little corner together and while they all sat and stared at us, quite enamored with the "white people", they proceeded to feed my boyfriend two plates piled high of something that included possibly hard boiled eggs and some unleavened bread that were both drenched in curry and a meat of some type that we are still yet to put into words. My friend swears that I got off easy and didn't eat much somehow. But I totally remember him being soooo polite about it. That's just how he was. (and is). Then, to end the evening properly, the men escorted my boyfriend to the bathroom where they offered him cup after cup of homemade beer fresh from the bathtub....awe...he drank it...isn't that cute?

He broke up with me a few weeks later...
(he doesn't remember this part but ...but I swear it was him who broke up with me!)